Untitled Series : Chapter 1  The Arrival
by Snowcouger
Summary: Post ROTF. Cian and Lightning Rod are tired, so very tired. Centuries of wandering the cosmos trying to avoid the bloody civil war has taken it's toll. Boy, does Ratchet ever have fun patching them up.


It was a long shot; both knew that fact all too well. An open invitation to a new planet, a place to settle and cease the endless wandering most surviving Cybertronians had taken too? Yeah, right. They were desperate however, centuries of hard existences and neglect had taken its toll. Both where in dire need of skilled repairs, a good meal, and a long recharge cycle. The only illumination where the stars themselves the night they landed; twin balls of fire streaking over empty aboriginal desert unseen save for the few scattered tribes of humans that made their homes in the arid wastelands of the Australian outback. It was quiet, wind rustling through the short, spiky grasses and sand scraping against the rocks the only sounds. Shedding their protective casing, the mech emerged from the craters left by their landing; both standing tall as they looked around. "So what now genius?" The shorter and slightly stockier of the two had spoken. "Should we wait for someone to find us or search them out ourselves?"

"You mean to say, "Cian, you should scout around while I wait here." The mech called Cian stared at his companion, the amusement in his voice not lost on him.

"What can I say brother? You're the scout, not me."

"There's nothing stopping you from looking around, Lightning Rod."

By now, a keen observer would have noticed several things that made the pair rather unique. The most obvious being neither carried anything that resembled weaponry. In fact, the body armor that was a given on their kind was strangely light, absent in places that made one wonder how they'd ever survived the battles on Cybertron with so many vital area's lacking any significant protections. The next would be the odd lankiness both shared; it was almost like their frames had been stripped of everything but essential components and what little armor they did have.

"We've discussed this, brother. You scout and aim and I blast our enemies into oblivion."

Sighing, Cian reached over his shoulder, digits resting on what appeared at first glance to be a shoulder pack; a quick tap and short whistle causing the entire area to shift and morph, the sounds of gears turning and metal grinding against metal filling the air. The amorphous lump of gears and circuits fell from his back, landing agilely on four rather canide like limbs. In fact, the entire frame of the beast was very canine like, although it's eyes where hidden behind a visor very similar to the one adorning it's master's face. Said visor glowed a soft yellow; dimming and brightening once in its equivalent of a blink. "Maxxor, recon. Dual uplink." Emitting a quick bark of acknowledgement, Maxxor trotted off to survey the area as commanded.

"You going to make him do all the work?"

"Not really. Just making sure his transmitters weren't damaged during the landing." Turning away from his brother, "Don't wander off. Last thing we need is a repeat of Lymris 2."

"Shove it, you oaf. Go chase your dog."

Cian snickered softly, taking off at a steady jog in the opposite direction as Maxxor.

Cian was good at covering his weaknesses, long ago he'd augmented his scouting drone for optimal night scouting; his visor was great for helping keep track of diagnostics and scan results, but it hampered his overall range of vision and to some extent his infrared. He'd spent weeks tweaking Maxxor's optics and visor, creating the rough equivalent of a night vision scope for the canide scout. It had its drawbacks; bright light blinded the poor creature for a time, and he'd been forced into near color blindness because of it. As much as Cian felt bad for robbing his loyal scout of his view of the world, in times like this it was an acceptable loss. Incoming, and fast. Maxxor was heading to intercept, his stealth programs and shielding activated instantly. Cian trotted back to his brother, the pair taking cover in a rocky outcropping as they watched the visual and data stream over the link the three shared.

"I don't like this... four against three normally isn't horrific odds but..."

"I know. I don't like it either. Maxxor can hold his own in a fight, but we're screwed if we transform. Taking out all four before they move too close is asking too much of you; with your energy reserves so low."

"I can't shield either, for the same reasons. I really, really hope you're right about our coming here, Ci'."

Maxxor finally moved in range for a good visual assessment of the incoming targets. Terrestrial vehicles all; none seemed overtly dangerous. Not a single obvious weapon among them, unless the exhaust pipes on the largest doubled as flamethrowers. A sharp whistle split the night, Maxxor turning on a dime and returning to his master.

"Anyone else hear that?" Ironhide was leading the group sent to investigate the newest Cybertronian landing site, and he was anxious. The last two had been Decepticons, and they'd arrived within minutes of Starscream or Megatron. While this led to some rather interesting fights, he was only semi-hoping for another good fight so soon. Sideswipe was in about the same boat; the wide open and desolate nature of the deep desert meant he could fight to his spark's content without having to worry about anything save for friendly fire. Jolt was just along for the ride in a sense; Optimus wanted everyone taking an equal share of the work and Jolt had been spending an awful lot of time just hanging around the base; whether in the med bay learning from Ratchet or tending his 'secret' garden. The aforementioned chief medic was rear guard for the four bot party, glad for a chance to stretch his wheels but grumbling a tad over having to halt his various experiments and such.

"I did." Sideswipe's voice was eager; like his mentor he'd noticed that the whistle bore a distinct resemblance to a scouter's command call. Indeed, this would be fun, if they had a trained scout out there.

"Cool your jets, kid. Don't go looking for a fight where one need not be."

"Yeah, what Ratchet said. And if it _is_ a scout; they definitely know we're here already."

"There were two hits on the radar. Be ready for an ambush."

"Oh come on, scout's travel light. I can take 'um."

"Until you get taken out by a sniper that's sitting just outside scanner range. Idiot, a scout never travels alone, and they nearly always travel with ranged specialist. Combat 101. Or did you forget?" Ironhide's voice carried a clear 'don't make me transform and hit you.' undertone.

Jolt was almost certain he could detect Sideswipe's frame heating up unusually on his infrared scans.

Cian, Lightning Rod, and Maxxor waited behind the outcropping; discussing their options quickly. "I still have Maxxor's cannon mode."

"Yes, but that tilts the odds even farther against us. Although you've got enough accuracy to at least disable two before they other's get here. Face it; we can't afford a close range combat situation."

Maxxor growled, audio horns lowering against his head, fang plates exposed as lip plates pulled back into an expression akin to a snarl.

"He's got a point. Maxxor is faster than either of us, and the only one to carry any kind of personal weaponry. He could test them out."

"I'd rather not risk his life like that. But he can outrun them on the ground, so at the very least he could meet them and see if they want a fight." Maxxor barked, tail wagging slowly. "You sure boy?" The scout drone nodded, audio horns perking and visor flashing a bright blue. "Well... alright then. Have at it." Maxxor brushed against Cian's leg affectionately, taking the split second to repeat the gesture with 'Rod before speeding off.

Maxxor ran full speed; he was glad for the chance to have more beings around then just his master and master's brother. His speed served another purpose, as it meant he could swing around and be out of firing range before anyone had a chance to lock on to him. Agility was lovely like that. The data link between himself and Cian was running full power, the drone could sense through it just how much focus his master was giving him. Underneath that, he could sense a distinct feeling of concern. Cian was almost more worried about losing him than any damage to himself that might result from a fight. Maxxor hated how much the tall mech worried for his safety; he knew he was basically only a scrap drone, thrown together from leftover parts to serve a single function. Yet, Cian worried. Maxxor couldn't understand. What he did understand was, by doing his job well, he made his master happy. So he never, ever failed.

And this time would be no different. He'd return with good news, or else he'd take out as many enemies as possible before going down.

Cian sent a command over the link, telling him to slow down and wait for them to come to him. Maxxor obeyed, sitting down to await the arrival of the incoming Autobots; jaw hanging slightly open and panting softly. The run had worn him out more then he'd admit, his energy reserves where as depleted as his masters. His visor began to glow yellow, a sign that Cian had taken control of his visual sensors. Together they watched as the four vehicles rolled to a stop 50 feet away, the largest in front of the rest.

"Scout drone." Ironhide's voice was weary, a drone definitely meant that a sniper or a scout was within range. Awesome. "Autobots, recon."

The four mechs transformed into their robot modes quickly; Ironhide kept a cannon trained on Maxxor, Sideswipe's blades extended from their sheaths with a shink!; Ratchet and Jolt busy scanning the drone.

"Nice cannons. Not much for range, are you?" Maxxor's mouth was open, Cian's voice being transmitted through him.

Ratchet moved closer, "Interesting, This drone has all the makers of being an average scrap type; but he's been upgraded. Whoever worked on it knew what they were doing."

Ironhide almost growled, annoyed at the barb from an unknown speaker. "Show yourself, coward!"

"Not in my programming to show myself to a hostile. Unless you're not, then I might reconsider."

"If you're not a Decepticon, we have no reason to fight." Jolt had moved nearly parallel with Ironhide, utterly fascinated by the drone.

Maxxor's mouth closed, Cian and 'Rod busy conversing between themselves. Maxxor appeared to the Autobot's to have gone into stasis; Jolt taking the opportunity to move close enough to actually touch the canide just as Cian's voice returned. "Alright. We shall... meet you there. Be warned however, if Maxxor sustains even the tiniest scratch I will personally put a bullet through each and every one of you long before you ever find us." Jolt had jumped so hard he'd nearly flown backwards; the blue mech managing to retain some dignity by not screaming in surprise.

Five minutes later, Maxxor barked happily, tail wagging as Cian walked up and stood beside him, a hand coming to rest atop the dog's head. "I am Cian. My sour faced companion is Lightning Rod. You can forgive us for being cautious; the last few centuries have been difficult and none of us is in any shape for a battle."

"You don't look like you're in any shape to be standing." Sideswipe had blades out still, not letting the ragged appearance of the two new bots lure him into dropping his guard.

"We're really not." 'Rod's retort was more a growl then anything; his short temper not liking the two warriors' almost hostile stances. "Chill out kid, at this range there's not a blasted thing we could do to you." Cian whacked him on the back of the head, "Moron. Just because it's true doesn't mean you had to tell _them_ that." Lightning Rod gave Cian a look that clearly said 'I will murder you in your sleep.' before quieting and letting his brother do what he was best at, speaking for the trio. Cian sent a quick _: I'd like to see you try. :_ over their private comm line before returning his attention to the Autobots. "Look, we heard the message Optimus Prime sent. A place to rest in peace is all we want. As you can plainly see, Neither 'Rod nor I have any weaponry, and Maxxor is nearly dead on his feet. Your move."

/Ironhide, you see it too, right?/

/I do. I don't remember either of them fighting in the war. They are far too old to have not participated in some way. I can't even find an insignia on them./

/Neither can I. But my scans confirm what they say. They are very weak./

/I can't find a hint of weaponry on anyone but the scout drone./

/Agreed. It's like they've been stripped bare. How the hell did they survive this long like that?/

/It's impossible. One hit and they'd be down for the count. This doesn't make any sense./

/Indeed./

"So... someone going to speak, shoot, or are we just going to stand here while the swordsman debates taking our heads off?" Cian was a patient mech, it came with the territory to be patient, but he was reaching his limits quickly this night.

Ironhide glanced to Ratchet once, then spoke, "Sideswipe, put your blades away."

"You gunna trust them, Ironhide?" He was still giving Cian and Lightning Rod a weary look, blades not retracting.

"Just do it. There's no point fighting them anyway. You'd really enjoy the prospect of scraping a drone and two weaponless mechs that're about to fall over?"

Just to emphasize that point, 'Rod began swaying on his feet a touch, Ci's arm slipping around his waist to stabilize him, "Yeah, if you're gunna scrap us, might as well do it now. Maxxor can't even fire his guns anymore, and I'm only a few minutes away from being as dead on my feet as he is."

Sideswipe's blades retracted, backing away a few paces. "Fine. It's not worth it anyway."

Ratchet sent out the homing call, "It'll be tight, but they should fit in the plane if we give them terrestrial modes to scan."

Cian and 'Rod exchanged an incomprehensible look. "Well, the thing is..."

"We can't actually take on vehicle modes."

That got blank stares for a fraction of a second.

"I'm sorry, could you repeat that. My audio processor must be on the fritz."

"We're serious. Neither of us has, nor can take on, a vehicle mode."

"How is that even possible?" Now Jolt was beyond curious. He'd never heard of such a thing before, ever. Hell, the young mech hadn't even though a handicap like that existed.

"It's an incredibly long story that I'd prefer waited until after we've gotten something to eat and slept." Maxxor laid down right about then, Cian turning in alarm when he felt the link between them start to weaken slightly. "Maxxor, return boy." Maxxor barked tiredly, rising slowly and walking around behind the tallest mech, using the last of his energy to leap onto his back and return to his dormant mode.

"Interesting. You treat him very much like a human would a pet."

"He may be little more than a drone to anyone else... but to us he's family. All we've ever had is each other. I built him to be my scout, but ended up with a friend and companion. Hence the threat of death if any harm came to him."

Oh yes, much fun would be had studying them later.

The roar of jet engines broke through the still night air, six heads turning toward the directions the sound came from. "Too loud to be Starscream or Megatron."

"I've got the pilot on my comm line. It's the NEST team. ETA eight minutes."

Those eight minutes where like an eternity to Cian. He could sense his brother growing weaker, and he was fairing little better. Unbeknownst to the Autobots, one of Cian's data cables had slunk from his arm, linking with his brother and transferring the small amount of energy he had to spare. It was just enough to keep Lightning Rod conscious and standing, but little more. 'Rod had shut down all non essential systems already, and was running on little more than a glorified autopilot. _:Wake up brother. The transport is here.:_

'Rod's systems sluggishly responded, his processors coming back to fifty percent total capacity. _: I can't make it much longer...:_

_: I know, neither can I. Can you walk without my help?:_

_: I believe so.:_ He pulled away, breaking the link that allowed for the energy share, his entire frame wobbling slightly as he moved. They worked on the problem of fitting them all in the cargo hold as quickly as possible, eventually finding a configuration that allowed for a very tight, but secure, fit. They could shut the drop door for takeoff and landing at the very least.

When they arrived at Diego Garcia, Cian's adamant demand to be loaded last was rendered genius. Lightning Rod had gone into stasis during the relatively short flight to the secure pacific island. It took everything Cian had to pull his brother free, refusing to allow anyone else to help until he too finally collapsed from exhaustion and had to be carried to the med bay.

Ratchet and Jolt where definitely busy for the next week. There were more problems with Cian and Lightning Rod then a gaggle of Decepticons after Sideswipe and Ironhide where let loose. Broken fuel lines, cracked support struts, broken joints... the brother's where a mess.

Then there was the problem of fuel. Ratchet spent nearly an entire day talking out loud to himself, going in circles trying to figure out how the pair had survived with literally no fuel intake for as long as they apparently had. It defied everything he knew about Cybertronian physiology. And that was saying something.

Once they'd gotten the pair within spitting distance of stable, It was almost four days later by this point mind you, attention was finally turned to figuring out just exactly who they where, what side they were on, and just how the hell they'd made it for so many millennium without any kind of weaponry. A sniper without a gun was useless, and a sniper was never without out a gun. So where the hell was Cian's? And just what was Lightning Rod's purpose? Jolt was itching to get his hands on Maxxor to study, but no matter what he or Ratchet did, they could not get the scout to disengage from his master.

It was very, very frustrating.

So when Cian finally showed some signs of waking on day six, the medics where visibly happy. Although that could also have been because the news that at least one of the new mechs was coming to got Prowl and Ironhide off their respective afts. They rushed about running all manner of diagnostics and intensive scans, monitoring the slow reviving process the tall mech was undergoing. By the time his higher level processors began to reboot and come online, the medics had gathered enough data to keep them busy for days. Ratchet had fallen into a conversation with himself, fascinated by studying Cian's targeting systems, which had had begun booting even before his optical or higher processing centers. Jolt was keeping himself busy and out of the way by working on a loose cover plate on Cian's chest. Simple enough fix, and there was little of importance below it, but it gave him something to do while they waited. So to say he nearly jumped out of his plating when a hand gripped his arm was a bit of an understatement. "Please don't fondle my chest plating before fixing it... makes it very hard to sleep when tactile sensors are buzzing constantly."

"You're awake!"

"Obviously." Ci released the blue mech, hand moving to rest over his still blacked out visor. "How long was I out?"

"Six days." Ratchet had come over with a handheld scanning device, "Hold still, we're still running scans on you." Cian's audio processors where functioning well enough to catch the implied, _"Just how the hell you're even awake is beyond me."_

"How's Rod?"

"Still unconscious, but he's stable. At this point it's safe to say he's just making up for lost sleep."

"Thank Primus..." He'd whispered the words, air whooshing through exhaust vents audibly. His optics finally booted, visor glowing yellow in response. His hand fell from his face, both moving to the table he lay prone upon, gripping the edges as he tried to lift himself into a sitting position. Gears and joints groaned hydraulics sluggish to respond.

"Woah there, slow down. You shouldn't try to sit up yet." Ratchet placed his hand on Ci's chest and pushed him back down easily. "You're far too weak still."

"You've got to look at Maxxor. He needs repairs as badly as we did. Please, let me up."

That got their attention. Jolt moved around to the other side of the table, helping Ratchet lift the mech up enough for Maxxor to disengage from him. The canide literally fell, no nimble landing this time. He could leech energy from his master, sure; but Cian was still so weak that he'd barely received any. Enough to keep him alive at the very least. Jolt had the scout off the floor and on the last exam table in an instant, half way through hooking the poor beast up scanners and stasis machines before Cian was returned to his prone position. Cian had enough left in him to groan in dismay before blacking out again.

He came too again a few hours later, med bay lighting dimmed to night time levels. The tall mech lay there semi-contently, the table was actually kind of comfortable and he felt more rested then he had in years. Hs head turned slightly, seeing his brother peacefully recharging on the table next to his, Maxxor past him. The canide's tail thumped against the table once, signaling he was awake as well. Ci noticed the perpetual data link between them had stabilized, and he spent several long minutes examining every aspect of his friend. Satisfied, he tried to sit up again, having better luck now that he'd almost finished recharging. He finally found a position that allowed him to stay upright without wobbling, one hand resting against a leg and supporting his weight. He waved the dog-like scout over, knowing from his scans that Maxxor wasn't hooked up to any machines. Maxxor rose easily, leaping down and trotting over, tail wagging furiously. Jumping up into his master's lap, he was rewarded with scratching of and around his audio horns, exhausts whooshing from him in a contented sigh. "Good boy, Maxxor. Good boy."

"Hnnmph."

"Welcome back to the world of the living, brother."

"You get the number of the jet that blasted me?" Groaning, 'Rod's optics brightened, twin yellow pools of light faintly illuminating the ceiling above their heads. He didn't even bother trying to sit up, room spinning some even while he was lying down. "Feel like I just went three rounds with something the size of a moon and lost." He had turned slowly, facing his twin and pet and groaning as the simple change in orientation of his optics sending the room spinning again. "You look a sight, Cian."

"You're no picture of health either, Lightning Rod." Maxxor chirped softly in agreement, tail wagging once. "Done running diagnostic's yet?"

'Close enough. Energy's still very low, but I won't keel over again. Did I pass out in the transport?"

"Yeah. We took off and you were out like a light. Scared the hell outta me. I managed to get you out then dropped myself."

"Where's that medic, what was his name, Ratchet?"

"Yeah, and I don't know. Woke up and the place was deserted."

"Strange. You'd think the med bay would be staffed at all times."

"It normally is. Movie night and staff meetings are the exception." Ratchet sounded a bit more grumpy than usual, a wrench appearing ominously in his hand. "You three should be resting."

"Hey, I'm at least lying down. Punish them." He groaned again, going back to staring straight upward since it made the world spin less. His optics dimmed as he tried to shut as many systems down as he could while remaining conscious. The less input the better at the moment.

Cian scratched Maxxor again, visor flashing an amused blue. "I can open my eyes without the strong urge to output. I think I'm allowed to sit up."

"Be fully aware that I hate every particle of your being right now."

"Noted." Maxxor snickered at the brother's banter, the canide finding it rather funny, and soothingly familiar.

Ratchet was far less amused. He walked over to the dizzy mech, a scanner appearing almost from thin air in his hand, setting about fixing whatever was disrupting 'Rod's balance centers. "And I thought Sunstreaker and Sideswipe where bad. Please, please tell me you two aren't the type to pull pranks all the bloody time."

"Err... not really? Not on anyone else anyway. We'll mess with each other all the time, but that's just because we had nothing better to do for a long time."

Ratchet seemed to brighten marginally with that answer. Processors turning towards business, "Cian, you're a sniper correct?"

"Mostly, yeah. Sniper and scout. Thankfully two professions that make me somewhat valuable. Why?"

"Rather strange that a trained sniper is missing his gun. Actually, there's quite a bit about the two of you that confuses me. What in Primus' name happened to your armor and weaponry? And just what did you mean when you said that the two of you can't transform?"

Cian cycled air through his vents; processors working on an answer to that for far long then one would expect a Cybertronian too. "Well, actually, I'm not missing my gun. You just don't know it's here. Ditto for armor. The only weaponry I have is my gun; but I'll get to that later. As for the last question, I didn't say we can't transform. Only that we can't take on a secondary mode."

"Okay, so why can't you assume a secondary mode?" Ratchet did not like word games, or for his questions to be answered cryptically. He set a tool down on a work table a tad harder then he'd meant too, the contact between two metal objects creating a distinctive and loud clank. He muttered darkly in Cybertronian as a few instruments went flying.

"Shortest answer is we already have one."

"Don't act like an idiot. We all had Cybertronian alt forms before coming here."

"Again, not what I meant. How to explain this..." He pondered for a few more seconds, "We're... combiners? I guess that's the word. I can't really explain it; you'd just have to see."

That got Ratchet's attention. He stopped cursing under his breath and trying to retrieve a stubborn screwdriver that'd slid under a cabinet. Straitening to his full height, "Combiners. You're serious, aren't you?"

"What possible reason would I have to lie?" Cian stared, visor turning an affronted reddish hue.

"That is incredibly disconcerting." Jolt had arrived, walking into a shocked Ratchet and a menacing looking Cian. "Please tell me you can change the color of your visor at will."

Cian's attention turned to the young blue mech, not missing a beat in setting his visor to cycle the visible color spectrum just for Jolt's amusement. "It'd be very hard to communicate if I couldn't; give I can't take the thing off and my mask has been fused on for a few thousand years. I forget how different it is to others, after so long with just my brother and Maxxor."

That got a smile out of the younger, "That's so cool. So you've developed a system where colors correspond to specific emotions or meanings?"

"Pretty much, yeah. Very effective mode of communication, once you learn it." He patted Maxxor's head once, the dog jumping from his lap and taking a long stretch before moving and allowing Cian room to stand up in. The sniper swung long legs over the side of the table and slid down, gripping the table as his joints took the strain of his weight, and hydraulics adjusted to keep him standing. Straitening to his full height once he felt stable, "So much better." He too stretched, ducking easily when Ratchet grumbled and threw a wrench at his head. "Lay off doc, I'm fine. In better shape than I have been for years, thanks to you two."

"Get back on that table before I take you offline and strap you down."

"Would you rather work in peace while they debrief me, or listen to him whine at me for the next few hours?"

Bingo. Ratchet couldn't fault him there, as he did work better with a quiet lab. "Fine. Jolt; escort him to Prowl and Ironhide."

"So Cian... Just what the hell happened to you three?" Jolt was genuinely curious, wanting to worm as much information as possible before being locked out of the room for the debrief session. Maxxor trotted behind the pair, head swinging left and right as he walked, helping Cian form a map of the base for future reference.

"What else but the war. My brother and I where... well basically we were used as science experiments. This was before the factions split mind you; given what was done to use most of the scientists would be considered Decepticons for the amount of cruelty they committed in the name of science." His visor was a dark blood red, ancient simmering anger coloring his thoughts. "We've lived a hard life, made harder by what they did to us. It's been next to impossible to be among our own kind, because of the bloody war. Everyone expects you to join a side, when all we want is peace." His visor was slowly returning to its normal calm yellow, another thing that confused the blue mech. "So eventually we gave up, went 'rouge' as one group of Autobots early on said. Made us wildcards, and therefore targets. Decepticons want us for our abilities, and Autobot's have never trusted us because we refused to ally ourselves with either side." Shrugging his shoulders, "Hopefully this time will be different. If not, well... Back to business as usual. If we're allowed to leave anyway."

Jolt was processing the information when they reached the walled off area of the dedicated hanger bay that served as semi-personal work spaces for the Autobots. Directing him to Prowl's space, "We're different here, you'll see."

Visor a wary red, Cian just nodded and entered the space, his dog following close behind.

Prowl didn't even look up from the data pad that seemed permanately attached to his hand, digit constantly scrolling the screen as he absorbed the information contained. "Cian, correct?"

The large mech nodded, a hand coming to rest atop Maxxor's head in a soothing manor, "Aye. I am Cian, and this is my scout Maxxor. My brother is still too weak to leave the infirmary. I imagine you have a myriad of questions for us."

"Correct." He actually set the data pad down for this, looking up at the tall mech for the first time. "First off, I would ask that you explain just how you came to be here."

Cian expected this, taking a step back and leaning his bulk somewhat comfortably against the wall partition, giving the excuse of still being somewhat weak. "It is a very long story, so for now you shall have to be satisfied with the shortened version." Prowl nodded in agreement to this, motioning for Cian to continue. "As your medics have no doubt deduced, my brother and I are very old compared to most living Cybertronians. I cannot be sure as I've met so few of your group, but from what I've seen we are likely the eldest here. That being the case, we very nearly predate this damned civil war. I know for a fact we predate the Autobots themselves. We come from an old clan, one that has dwindled and essentially died off save for us. The clan itself was hidden, a relic from the days before Cybertron was free; a clan of berserkers and warriors that lived for nothing save for war. I see this concerns you," he'd noticed the infinitesimal shifting of Prowls form at the mention of a clan of berserkers, "Fear not, while I do carry the capacity to fall into a berserker's rage, in my current condition I can do little in the way of harm or damage to any but myself. Personally, I'd love to have the programming edited out of me, but unfortunately it is a part of my very spark." Exhaust whooshed from vents as he sighed, "Lightning Rod does not have this capacity, so you have nothing to fear from him in that department. As a sparkling I was taken from what remained of the clan and sent to what was essentially a research facility; where a few years later I was joined by my brother. Whilst there the scientists took great pleasure in using us for all manner of experimentation and the like. Most treated us as less then alive, sub sentient beasts with no real function other than to see squirm for the sake of science. After a few hundred years of this, a scientist that had taken pity on us used the cover of a battle raging nearby to grant our freedom. By then I had managed to construct Maxxor, and the three of us fled the facility. We wandered aimlessly; we had nowhere to go, no family or friends to contact. When we learned the scientists were searching for us, we hid away on a transport off the planet with no idea where we were going to what we'd find. Travel was hard with no resources and no home; the years took their toll. But through sheer luck and some brains we managed to survive. Once we heard the message sent by Optimus Prime, we came here."

Prowl nodded, taking the extremely watered down answer for the moment. "Fair enough. My next question is thus: you are both scout and sniper, yet have no armament. Your drone however is armored and armed to the teeth, literally." Maxxor's lips pulled back in a silent snarl, showing just how sharp his teeth were. "How and why are you both stripped to nearly bare frames?"

"Simple. We are each other's armor, and my brother is my gun. In essence, we are a combiner. He becomes the armor for my frame, and the gun I fire. In our combined forms I am far too heavy and slow to act as an effective scout, so I created Maxxor to cover this disadvantage."

Prowl's optics widened perceptively, sitting that hair straighter in his chair that made it appear he was nearly leaning back. "That is not Autobot technology. Yes, a few carried drones such as yours, but combiners have been exclusively Decepticons for generations."

"As I said, we predate the current factions. As you can plainly see in my brother, our optics are still the yellow of those born before the split was solidified. We were born free of this war, and have tried to remain as such."

Prowl was not entirely happy with the clipped retort, but he continued anyway. "You say you wish to remain outside this war, yet you come to the planet that is currently ground zero. Why?"

"Simple. We needed help in the form of repairs and fuel. Once Ratchet is finished with his report, you shall see just how close to death we actually where. In all honesty, I grow tired of a life of lonely running. Maybe I've gone slightly mad in my old age, but even a life of war would be preferable to that of a fugitive with no one by my grouchy brother and dog." If not for the affection flowing through their data link, Maxxor might have been offended by the joking barb.

Prowl reached into a drawer of the desk he sat behind, removing a data pad. "Ironhide has requested that you prepare a tactical report on your abilities. It would be wise to heed his request."

Taking the pad and acknowledging the dismissal, "As you wish." He gave the security chief and second in command a mildly respectful nod as he turned to leave, allowing Maxxor to lead the way back to the med bay. He really could use another few hours of recharge.


End file.
